No Rest For the Wicked Tag
by sandradee30
Summary: I couldn’t leave it like that. This is my fix. Got some angst, ok got lots of angst, and hurt! All around. Just read, you’ll understand.


**Disclaimer:** They aren't mine. If they were I wouldn't have ended it there. Or maybe I would have. I'm a little twisted.

**Spoilers:** Well, it's a tag to the S3 Season finale so if you haven't seen through the end of S3 you will be spoiled.

**A/N:** I suck at this, but I'm going to rate it T because death is discussed and some language.

**Summary: ** I couldn't leave it like that. Dean in hell, Sam sad, so this is my fix. Got some angst, ok got lots of angst, and hurt! All around. Just read, you'll understand.

No Rest For the Wicked Tag

The coppery scent filled the room. He'd remember that smell long after they left, like the look on his brother's face. Eyes open, but nobody there.

When the door opened he almost hoped it was one of the demons. Gripping the knife tighter he turned, prepared to fight, only to find Bobby standing in the doorway.

"Sam?" The question hung in the air with the smell. The recognition didn't take long though, and Bobby slowly entered the room. "Damn."

"The others?" Sam asked.

"Gone. Lillith?" he asked, kneeling next to Dean.

"Gone," Sam mumbled turning back to Dean. "Bobby, I…"

Bobby said nothing. He gently laid his hand on Dean's forehead. With a quick look at Sam he closed Dean's eyes.

Bobby seemed to melt into the background, and for that Sam was grateful. If he imagined hard enough, he could make himself believe Dean was sleeping, but Dean was never that still, his face never that relaxed. Even in sleep Dean was on guard. He took his coat off and wrapped it around Dean's chest covering most of the slash marks. Taking a deep breath, he pulled Dean close and stood.

Once in the car, he wasn't sure what to do. The past year had been focused on one thing, saving Dean. Without that focus, he was lost.

His mind kept going back to those three months after the Trickster. The three months without Dean. He couldn't do that again. Besides, e couHHthis time was different. He wasn't sure how to fix this, or if he could fix it at all.

They pulled up in front of the house just as dawn approached. The sunrise laughed at him, glinting off the windshield and exposing the truth. Dean's skin had grown cold while he held him, but in the cruel light of day he saw death taking over.

They didn't speak as Sam moved Dean from the car into the house. Standing in the doorway Sam suddenly couldn't breath. It had only been a few hours earlier that he'd been arguing with Dean in that very room. Moving quickly, a dirty mattress on the floor his only choice, he set Dean down and ran out of the house.

He angrily wiped at the tears that wouldn't stop. Dean would hate that. Sitting down on the step he tried to wrap his mind around the last twenty-four hours. What he could have done different. How he could have saved Dean. He should have listened to Ruby. He laughed inwardly at the thought. Dean would _really_ hate that.

To be honest the whole demon blood and powers/gifts crap just freaked him out. But if it had saved Dean, he would have done it. Dean would have been pissed, but he'd still be alive.

"Sam."

He'd completely forgotten about Bobby. "Yeah."

"Do you have a plan?" Bobby asked.

"Not really. The plan had been not to let Dean die," he said digging the toe of his boot into the dirt.

"Then I guess we have work to do." Sam turned to glare at the man and saw how much this was affecting him too.

Taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, Sam stood. "What did you have in mind?"

"The deal is done. Dean's soul is in hell," Bobby said walking back into the house. Sam had no choice but to follow him.

"The point, Bobby."

"Pipe down, Boy, and let me finish," Bobby said rummaging through a pile of books. "My point is that there was nothing in that contract that didn't say we couldn't get him back out."

"I'm not sure it works that way," Sam said.

"Why not?"

"For starters, Dean is dead. Even if we could get his soul out of hell…" Sam's gaze drifted to his brother's body.

"Right, that's why I put a call into a friend," Bobby said handing Sam a large pile of books.

"A friend," Sam said.

"Yeah."

"And this friend can…" Sam said not liking this idea at all.

"Help Dean."

"How?"

"By fixing his body. Now, hush up and read," Bobby said and walked out of the room.

He read until his eyes hurt and found nothing. That didn't surprise him. He'd been thinking, and in the back of his mind he knew the only way to get Dean out of hell. Bobby wasn't going to agree to it though.

There was a loud knock on the door and a booming voice echoed down the hallway. "Good to see you, Bobby."

Sam eyed the dark skinned man who entered the room with Bobby. Barely coming to Sam's shoulder and limping slightly, he could hardly imagine how this man could help.

"Marcus, Sam. Sam, Marcus," Bobby introduced.

"Wish we could have met under better circumstances," he said setting his bag down on the table. His head tilted slightly as he spotted Dean.

Sam quickly placed himself between Marcus and his brother. "Wait."

"We don't have time for this, Sam. Let him by," Bobby said.

"No, not until you tell me what he's going to do," Sam said crossing his arms.

"I'm going to give you some time," Marcus said pulling a vial from his bag.

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"A little of this, a little of that."

"Sam…" Bobby started.

"Hoodooo," Sam said.

"Something like that," Marcus said.

"But you can't bring him back," Sam said.

"No, I can heal his body and keep it… well, I can keep it ready for you. Bringing him back, that's your job." Sam didn't stop him as he moved to Dean's side.

"Bobby, I need to talk to you," Sam said.

"Did you find something?" Bobby asked following Sam out to the porch.

"No, and I don't think I will."

"Sam…"

"Let me finish," Sam said turning away. "I only see one solution to this, and you're not going to like it."

Bobby sighed but didn't say anything.

"Lillith sent him to hell, she can…"

"No."

"It's the only way. I can summon her…"

"No deals, Sam. Your brother would never forgive you."

"I'm not talking about making a deal," Sam said turning to face him.

"You're not making any since," Bobby said running his hand over his chin.

"She tried to kill me and it didn't work."

"What?"

"After… After Dean, she tried to kill me, but some how I stopped her. Her powers didn't work on me."

"How is that possible?" Bobby asked.

"Ruby said my gifts aren't gone, just dormant," Sam turned away again. The fear tickling the back of his head just wouldn't go away, but if it saved Dean, he'd do anything.

"How is this going to save your brother?" Bobby asked.

"She was afraid of me. Kind of blows my mind, a demon that powerful afraid of me," Sam said leaning against the deck railing. "I can use that to my advantage."

"You're going to bluff a demon."

"No. I still have Ruby's knife. If it comes down to it, I'll kill her, but if I can persuade her…"

"Sam, that's crazy."

"I know, but it's all I got," Sam said. "I can't leave Dean in hell."

It didn't take him long to figure out how to summon Lillith. It had been right there all along, if they had looked in the right spot. It was taking longer to convince Bobby to leave. The man was stubborn.

"I need to do this, Bobby. For Dean," Sam said his gaze drifting toward his brother. Marcus had worked his mojo, and Sam was amazed at how much better Dean looked. Now it was his turn.

"Fine, but if I don't hear from you by tomorrow, I'm coming back."

"We'll be there in the morning," Sam said.

"I'm going to hold you to that," Bobby said before walking out the door.

Sam went to work drawing the symbols on the floor and lighting the candles. Resting his hand on the knife at his hip, he lit the match and dropped it. The powder sparked and flared than died out. Sam kept his guard up, scanning the room.

"What do you want?" came from behind him. He spun around and came face to face with a little girl.

"You know what I want," Sam said.

She smiled, eyes falling on Dean. "Not a chance."

"Ok," Sam said pulling the knife.

"Killing me won't bring him back," she said walking around the room.

"No, but it'll feel good," he said mimicking her every step.

"I'm surprised, Sam. I thought you would have figured it out by now," she said eyeing the devil's trap on the other side of the door.

"Figured what out?"

"You can't save your brother," she said her eyes going white.

Sam didn't even flinching as she raised her hand. The light was bright, but did nothing.

Her brow furrowed, and the demon within her was clearly evident on her face. "How are you doing that?"

"I don't know," Sam said.

She continued to walk around the room, eyeing each exit. "You think you've trapped me."

"No, I know I've trapped you."

Her smile was full of malice. "I can still hurt you, Sam."

Suddenly he was falling, and nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. Dean. His head filled with the screams. He saw only blood, felt only pain. It was overpowering and took his breath away.

"NO!!" He was on his feet and had her by the throat before he could think it through.

"Do it, Sam," she taunted. "I dare you."

"I'll kill you, but only after I get Dean back," he said dropping her.

"He's dead. There's no getting around that," she said slowly getting to her feet.

"There's a way to get around everything. Put Dean's soul back in his body, and you can go."

"Promise," she mocked. "Or what? You'll kill me."

"Yes," he said.

For an instant her face showed her fear, but than it was gone. Replaced by a smug smile. "This isn't going to stop me. Whether you're by yourself, or with your brother you're going to lose. You're out numbered. In the end you will die."

"I don't doubt it, but I'm not dying today, and neither is Dean."

He could see the struggle going on inside her. She wanted him, she wanted Dean. She wasn't used to not getting what she wanted. It made him smile.

"Fine," she said.

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but Dean's sudden intake of breath was not it. His attention wavered for an instant, and she took advantage. He didn't see the chair coming until it was too late.

Pain. Pain worse than anything he had ever imagined. Groaning he rolled over. Wait. He rolled over? Opening his eyes, he found himself on the floor. The pain blossomed in his chest, and he groaned again. God, please, no more pain. He couldn't bare any more pain. Cracking his eyes back open, Sam came into focus across the room. He wasn't moving.

"Sam?" Dean croaked. "I swear Sam if you did something stupid I'm going to hurt you."

Sam seemed to hear him, because his eyes opened. "Dean?"

"What did you do?" Dean asked closing his eyes. A hand on his forehead made him jump.

"Open your eyes, Dean."

He just wanted to sleep. To escape the pain, but he opened his eyes. "Sam, you're bleeding."

"The bitch has good aim," Sam said wiping at the cut on his forehead.

"What did you do?" Dean asked looking around the room. He spotted the devil's traps and glared at his brother. "Sam, if you…"

"No deals, promise. I think I pissed her off though," Sam said eyeing the large hole in the side of the house.

"What's new," Dean groaned trying to sit up. "You know you're going to have to explain this to me, right?"

"I know," Sam said helping his brother stand. Dean wavered slightly but remained on his feet. "Dean, do you remember…"

"Yeah, I remember," Dean whispered. "Hell sucks, Sammy."

Sam laughed knowing this was Dean's way of dealing. Eventually he'd talk or Sam would make him.

Authors note: Yes I'm ending it there, because I could go on forever. This was just my catharsis. I needed Dean back. This was just my solution. Hope you liked it.


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